The Gathandrian Trilogy 02 - Hallsfoots Battle

the enraged bird, he could see Annyeke holding Johan back despite his stature.
    Wait , Simon heard in his mind, a thought shared only between the two of them but which somehow he also could hear.
    At the same time, the bird’s shrieks stopped. Instead of the raucous thought piercing sound, he heard only silence.
    From where he lay on the floor, the raven overpowering him, the scribe saw Johan reach out, take Annyeke’s hand where it rested on his arm and pat it once before letting go. Then Johan took the two strides necessary to reach him and hunkered down.
    The raven twisted where he lay in Simon’s grip and stared at Johan. The black eye blinked, and it felt as if a spate of dark water had tumbled through the scribe’s mind and he gasped. Johan, too, almost fell except Simon grabbed him, keeping him safe.
    The raven flapped free, then hopped up onto the table, opened his beak noiselessly and gazed for a moment or two at them all. When her turn came, Annyeke stepped back and Simon could sense her fear once more.
    Finally, the raven stretched out the wing nearest the scribe and brushed his shoulder with it. The mind-cane, all but forgotten in the corner, quivered, hummed for a heartbeat before it, too, fell silent.
    It was Annyeke who spoke first, with more than a slight tremor in her voice.
    “I-I think you’ve found another companion, Simon,” she said.

Chapter Four: A kind of preparation

    Annyeke
    It was the first thing that came out of her mouth. And in her years on Gathandrian soil, she’d learned that sometimes it was best to trust what you said. Anything was better than thinking things through too much and trying to be logical. Unlike Johan, Annyeke liked to work from her instincts.
    “Some companion,” Johan snorted. “He all but killed us.”
    “No, he didn’t,” Talus interrupted, as he sidled in from the door. “The bird was frightened, that was all.”
    “How do you know that?” Annyeke asked, sensing the growing calm and curiosity of the boy’s mind.
    He gazed up at her.
    “Birds are always frightened indoors,” he said.
    She nodded, thinking they weren’t the only ones.
    “He’s not frightened now,” Simon said quietly. “You’re right. He’s come to be with me.”
    When she looked across the table at him, Annyeke could see how pale the scribe’s face was. All the time, the snow-raven continued to stare at the four of them, his wing still resting on Simon’s shoulder.
    It came to her that it was time to take up the cloak of leadership the Elders had bequeathed to her. She was no longer protecting a sick man and waiting for an absent one. She was in charge of a small band looking to her for guidance. However, before squaring her shoulders and opening her mouth, Annyeke couldn’t help glancing at Johan. He smiled briefly at her, but his eyes were bleak.
    She turned away.
    “What I think we should do is this,” she said and then, before she fully understood it, everything became clear. “We need to prepare for the battle Gelahn will bring upon us. That much is obvious. To do that, we need strength, both mental and physical. Because, without the mind-cane, Gelahn’s mental power will be weaker, and he must compensate for that elsewhere. The only action he can take—the action I’d take—is to fight with a combination of both. He’ll do anything to get his power back. Here, in Gathandria, he spent so long without it.”
    “In the Elders’ prison, you mean?” Johan interrupted, a frown on his handsome face.
    She nodded. The knowledge of the cage in the Underground Library, the books and all she had discovered from them swept over her once more—Gelahn’s attempt at power, his imprisonment, the Elders’ cruelty and how they had allowed him to escape. And why. There in her home she opened her mind to them and finally told the full story of what she had found and what it had meant to them all, even Talus, though for her young charge she threaded her mind-words with comfort. The harshness of some acts should only be truly felt by the adult world.
    When she’d finished, the mind-cane began to hum and the raven hopped elegantly off the table, its wounds even now beginning to vanish, and half flew to stand next to the cane, though not too near. The humming faded to nothing.
    “I hadn’t known the depths and depravity of it,” Johan whispered, and she could hear the shock and grief in his voice, the same feelings she had experienced at first seeing Gelahn’s